Washed Away
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Sirius struggles with being back in the house he grew up in, as the guilt of his failures weighs upon him. Warning for Suicidal thoughts and depression.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Warning - Suicidal thoughts and depression.**

 **Written for;**

 **Months of the Year Competition - January. Extra Prompts used -** _Snow, White, Angst, "I'm just having one of those days." Knowledge, Upset, Doorway._

 **Valentine Making Station -** _ **Ribbon; Black**. Write about Sirius. _

**Super Inspirational Prompt-a-thon. Word Prompts -** _Charming, forgiveness, snowfall._

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 **Washed Away**

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He meanders around the house, a slight sway in his steps, as he swigs deeply from the bottle of firewhisky firmly attached to his hand. He hate's this house, hates being forced to live in it once more, hates everything it represents to him. As he drifts from room to room, he can hear an echo of his mother screaming obscenities at him, of the thwacks his father's belt made along his spine.

He stops in the doorway of his little brother's old room. It hasn't changed at all, and the thought makes him sneer. Perfect Regulus, the perfect son, the perfect Slytherin, the perfect... well. He's dead now, so it doesn't matter, does it? Stupid boy.

Sirius warned him. Or at least, he tried to. Waste of his breath and time, clearly, but it haunts him all the same. No matter that Regulus made bad choices, he was still Sirius' little brother. Shaking his head as he moves away from the door, Sirius takes another drink from the fast emptying bottle in his hand. That he didn't... that he couldn't convince Regulus to follow a different path is just another failure he can add to an already lengthy list.

Entering his own room, Sirius can't find the pleasure he once did at the muggle poster's adorning the walls. An act of rebellion more than any real interest in the muggle world. He'd taken great pleasure in his mother's rant about them, and at the time, the punishment for them had been more than worth it. Now they were a harsh reminder of the man he used to be.

Charming and funny and caring and popular. Despite his less than happy upbringing, Sirius had turned out all right. He'd had friends, the best friends anyone could want. He'd been smart. He'd had a bright future to look forward to.

All it had taken was one night, and one bad judgement. All of the good in Sirius' world had been washed away.

Remus talked of self forgiveness and shaking off the guilt. Remus was full of shit. Sirius couldn't shake off the guilt, because it had consumed him whole, absorbing him completely until it was all he could think about. The only time he had felt anything close to himself was when he had the smallest hope that Harry might get kicked out of school. Of course, that hope only added to the mountain of guilt inside him.

Glancing out of the window, Sirius was somewhat surprised to see snow falling, the snowflakes dancing in the wind before they landed gently on the closest surface. He'd always loved snowfall as a boy, but it didn't bring him the same peace it once had. The knowledge that even something as simple as snow could no longer make him feel better upset him. The blanket of white that once signified purity and innocence now only reminded him of happier times that he would never relive.

He should have expected it though. Nothing could save him now.

Even firewhisky didn't bring him the same respite that it had when he first moved into Grimmauld Place. It was as though the guilt was acting as a shield, stopping him from succumbing to the darkness it offered.

Sirius wondered how he hadn't been confronted about his behaviour yet. Surely he wasn't so good of an actor that Remus, his oldest friend, didn't recognise the depression that had taken hold of him. But then, maybe he is that good of an actor. He knew that Remus had been concerned when they'd first relocated to the hell hole, so he'd hidden how dark his thoughts were, hidden his desire for oblivion, for blissful emptiness that nothing but death could bring.

When the façade failed, he'd always reply to the concern and worry with the same answer.

"I'm just having one of those days. Don't worry, I'll shake it off."

For the most part, it pacifies and he is left alone once more. No matter that it's what he wants, he wonders if it's not the worst thing for him.

As Sirius drains what's left in the bottle, letting it fall from his hand, he sinks down the wall and sobs.


End file.
